


Little lies and crazy plans.

by ylc



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, John and Mycroft are dating, John and Sherlock haven't met, M/M, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-08 06:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10380312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ylc/pseuds/ylc
Summary: "I need you to seduce my brother."Greg Lestrade is used to dealing with Sherlock's odd (and sometimes downright crazy) "requests".This however, takes the cake.





	1. An odd request

**Author's Note:**

> This idea attacked me last night, just as I was turning off the lights and refused to let me sleep until I wrote it down. I like it, actually, and thought I would share it and see what you guys think of the premise ;)

“I need you to seduce my brother.”

Greg stares, not exactly surprised by the fact that Sherlock has sneaked into his flat, even if it’s past midnight and he has just installed a new security system. It’s the sort of thing he has come to expect after 5 years of dealing with the madman, along with the frequently odd (and sometimes downright crazy) requests (more like demands).

This, however, takes the cake.

He blinks, his brain slowly going back online after being so rudely awoken and makes the only logical question. “What?”

Sherlock huffs, his expression telling Greg how much he dislikes repeating himself. “I said-”

“No, no, I heard that,” the older man interrupts, sitting up and rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I meant, why?”

Sherlock makes a face, clearly annoyed. “So I can have his boyfriend.”

Greg blinks once more, his sleepiness helping to ignore the way his heart constricts at such words. He always knew Mycroft Holmes was way out of his league, but the man didn’t seem inclined to  _ date  _ at all, so he had always imagined-

Well. Never mind that.

He stares at Sherlock some more and then shakes his head, getting out of bed and making his way to the kitchen, determined to pour himself a drink. He can feel Sherlock following after him, hovering like a shadow, radiating frustration.

“Alright,” he says after pouring himself 2 fingers of whisky. He hesitates, looks up at Sherlock and pours himself another finger. “From the beginning then. What are you going on about?”

Sherlock glares but drops himself on one of the chairs at the kitchen and begins his tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?  
> It’s very short, I know, but it sets up the scene rather well, doesn’t it?  
> I like it and I think I’ll go back to it once I’m done with one of my current WIPs, but I don’t know. I have 3 more chapters of “Lessons in romance” and also 3 more of “saving all my love for you.” “Priceless” and “Of love, madness and other motivations” have far far too many more to go so… well, I honestly don’t know. It’s just I wanted to write some angsty Johncroft/Johnlock story (I just re read my fic, “Long term complications of arranged marriages”) but I think this will be more on the humorous side, with no actual messy triangles involved ;) Still, I think it could work very nicely.  
> Thanks for reading and pretty please let me know what you thought?


	2. Sherlock's tale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to stop lying to myself about  _ when  _ I’m going to write something. I just have no self restraint whatsoever and of course once an idea has gotten a hold of me, it doesn’t really matter how many other WIPs I have :P
> 
> Anyway… on we go with the actual plot (somewhat). I hope you’ll enjoy it!
> 
>  

It’s one of those incredibly stuffy parties, with annoyingly self important people that only his brother can tolerate, if only because he’s one of those self important people.

Sherlock sighs, glancing at his champagne flute as if it held all the secrets of the universe. He hadn’t wanted to come, of course, but Mycroft had promised a case and since the so-called  _ client  _ just refused to receive anyone in her house-

Well, here he is.

In all honesty, the woman’s attitude would have convinced him of not taking the case, no matter how promising it seemed, but unfortunately he has come to find himself a little short in funds and while Mrs. Hudson is quite understanding and will never actually kick him out for not paying the rent-

Well, he does need to eat, even if it’s only from time to time.

He looks around the room boredly, trying to entertain himself with deducting the nearby guests, but the activity promptly gets dull. These people are not only pretentious, but horribly dull and pedestrian and Sherlock is rethinking his willingness to accept this no doubt ridiculous case when his brother (and future client) finally appear.

The case isn’t without charm, luckily. The series of mysterious letters left at Lady Arwell’s office that aren’t threatening, but just annoying due their vast numbers seem entertaining, if not horribly complicated. He’s fairly certain he’ll have it solved within the week and the woman promises to pay handsomely for his services, so all as well.

As soon as the woman says her goodbyes and heads towards a rather noisy group on the east side of the room, Sherlock turns to leave but is stopped by his brother’s hand on his forearm. He rolls his eyes dramatically, turning to glare at Mycroft.

“You’re not making me socialize,” he deadpans and it’s Mycroft’s turn to roll his eyes.

“It couldn’t possibly hurt you to interact with other people, Sherlock,” his brother says very seriously and the younger male glares.

“I beg to differ. I can feel my intellect dropping with every second I’m forced to interact with dull people.”

Mycroft takes a deep breath. “It might not be the most… mentally stimulating activity, but it can be quite useful. The people here-”

And so he goes on and on about one thing or another, although Sherlock is honestly not paying attention. His brother hates socializing as much as he does, but he has not given up hope that maybe one day Sherlock will join him in his boring job as the British Government. He would certainly benefit from Sherlock’s work, but it’s not something the younger man cares to even contemplate.

As their  _ conversation  _ carries on, they end up falling to their usual  _ discussion  _ pattern which tends to include remarks about Mummy’s opinion on their life decisions, their various perceived shortcomings and their many but carefully hidden insecurities.

Sherlock has just made a jab at Mycroft’s weight (which he knows is the most effective thing to comment on), followed by a comment about his inability to get a partner (not that Sherlock is doing any better on that particular subject and of course they both deny the need or the want of romantic entanglements) when a new man appears and links arms with Mycroft, before pressing a quick kiss against his cheek.

Sherlock almost chokes with his own saliva and Mycroft doesn’t do any better, although he manages to hide it more quickly.

The man smiles charmingly at Sherlock, before extending his hand and introducing himself as Dr. John Watson.

Mycroft’s boyfriend.

Sherlock narrows his eyes, turning to look at his brother, expecting to find the signs that will tell him this is all a charade, but after the initial surprise his brother has relaxed considerably, leaning against his  _ partner  _ and smiling.

Sherlock frowns. Is Mycroft’s initial tension just the result of being unaccustomed to any display of affection, a public one nonetheless? It seems nearly impossible, completely unthinkable and yet-

He starts spitting out every single deduction he can make of the man and Mycroft glares at him, growing more annoyed with each passing second. Mycroft’s doctor isn’t at all what Sherlock would expect: middle class background, military history, an adrenaline junkie, with trust issues, a psychosomatic limp and an incredibly average part time job in a clinic- definately not Mycroft’s type.

Although maybe that’s not quite true. Sherlock had always imagined his brother would go for someone as pompous and  _ boring  _ as himself, but then there’s his  _ little  _ crush on Lestrade to consider, so maybe-

“Fantastic!” Dr. Watson exclaims once Sherlock is done dissecting his life story, leaving Sherlock gaping like fish out of water while his brother smiles smugly. “I’ve seen Mycroft do the same thing, of course, but he tends to keep his deducting process to himself,” he continues, smiling fondly at the older Holmes. “Pretty impressive.”

“That’s not what people normally say,” Sherlock murmurs, mostly to himself, quite at lost of how to behave, suddenly feeling shy.

“What do they normally say?”

“Piss off,” he replies, offering the man a teasing smile and John laughs, throwing his head back and Sherlock is  _ fascinated.  _ He’s not used to people reacting this way to him, he’s not used to someone actually finding his deductions something other than a cheap trick and so-

He frowns, eyes sweeping between his brother, his boyfriend and their linked arms.

Well, this could be problematic.

 

* * *

 

“As if this wasn’t crazy enough…” Greg murmurs, taking a long sip from his glass and frowning when he realizes it’s empty. “Not only do you want to steal your brother’s boyfriend, you want to do it after  _ a single conversation  _ with the man.”

Sherlock glares, crossing his arms in front of his chest stubbornly. “Will you help then?”

Greg stares at him for a beat before pouring himself three more fingers of whisky. “Sherlock, this is insane,” he says slowly, as if he’s explaining a difficult concept to a small child. “This isn’t a toy your brother has and you want; this is an actual human being-”

“Oh, save me of your moral nonsense,” Sherlock interrupts darkly. “It’ll be for the best, really.”

“Sherlock-”

“Are you going to pretend you wouldn’t like to date my brother?”

Greg nearly chokes on his drink. How on Earth does Sherlock know that? “Oh, please,” the younger man says with a roll of his eyes. “As if you could be any more transparent.”

Well, it’s always  _ nice _ to know people know about his embarrassing crush. “Does your brother know?” he finds himself asking and Sherlock sends a look in his direction that’s pure frustration.

“Of course not. He’s completely oblivious, but he does like you back, which makes you the perfect candidate-”

“What?”

Sherlock looks upwards, as if asking the heavens for patience and then looks back at Greg. “Why do you think I came to you?”

“Because you don’t have any other friends?”

Sherlock makes a face. “That… might be part of the reason. But also because Mycroft does like you. He’s just… oblivious to your interest.”

Greg takes a sip directly from the bottle this time. God, he’s too sober for this conversation. “I still think it’s a bad idea,” he begins hesitantly but Sherlock is smiling like the madman he is, looking quite pleased with himself.

“You’re going to do it anyway.”

Greg bites his lip, wondering how exactly did he end up in this situation and why exactly is he going to accept going with Sherlock’s mad plan. 

He seriously needs to reexamine his life choices.

“Great!” Sherlock exclaims, clapping his hands excitedly. “Just do as I say and we’ll both have our men by the end of the month.”

In his line of work, Greg has heard far too many disturbing sentences.

He doesn’t think any of them measures up to this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?   
> I have a general idea of where I’m going with this, but only time will tell if I can stick to my original plan for once on my life :P  
> Anyway, thanks for reading and pretty please let me know what you thought?


	3. Saving face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter! That was quick, wasn’t it? It is quite short though, but well…  
> Enjoy!

 Mycroft taps his fingers against his knee, the car’s backseat feeling entirely too cramped despite the fact that John is sitting on the other seat, right next to the window, glancing outside and so giving him a lot of space.

Tonight was… weird, to say at least. He’s grown used to Sherlock’s childish remarks, but his skin isn’t as thick as he likes to pretend. Sometimes his brother’s words strike a cord and leave him feeling raw and entirely too vulnerable, even if he’s careful to keep it well hidden. 

He recalls John’s well timed appearance (which he’s fairly certain wasn’t a coincidence), the way he casually linked their arms together and the quick chaste press of lips against his cheek. The sensation had been unexpected, but not completely unwelcome, even if-

He frowns, looking down at his lap as he tries to gather his thoughts. As much as he’d like to deny it, the truth is that he’s  _ human  _ and craves physical affection from time to time. His parents were never overly affectionate, Mummy’s hugs spare and only present when he was particularly upset and even those had felt… distant, somehow. And so he had learned to do without such things that seemed to come so easily to everyone else. 

As time has gone by though-

God, he’s getting sentimental in his old age.

“I’m sorry about the little display in front of your brother,” John says, interrupting his increasingly depressing thoughts. “It’s just- well, I heard what he said. And I do know something about mocking younger siblings.”

Mycroft huffs. “Sherlock has always been…” He waves a hand vaguely, looking for the right word. “He is one of the few people in the world who know my weak points.”

John chuckles, shaking his head. “Little siblings have a special talent for that,” he musses out loud, a slight smile on his lips. “I know it was a silly teasing remark but well…” He shrugs non committedly. “I acted on impulse. If I have upset you-”

Mycroft interrupts him by raising his hand. “I’m not upset. I just- I was thinking.”

John arches an eyebrow questioningly, but Mycroft ignores him with practiced ease, turning his attention to the passing lights outside the car. The other man doesn’t comment and Mycroft holds back a relieved sigh.

Trusted assistants are hard to find. Those who actually know when to keep quiet are a blessing.

He thinks of Anthea and how she’d be teasing him if she was here. The girl is smart and so very skilfull, but she has a tendency to sass him out. In many ways, she’s like a little sister and she often teams up with Sherlock to torment him.

She doesn’t make his brother scanting remarks, though.

He spares a quick glance in John’s direction, who is glancing outside the window once more, mind far away. When Anthea had announced she was taking a maternity leave (which had taken him completely by surprise), he had nearly panicked. Just how was he supposed to handle everything by himself? Luckily his assistant was good at forward thinking and had already hired a temporary substitute.

He hadn’t been quite sure what to think of John Watson at first, but the man had proved himself within the week. He was smart enough, a quick thinker, practical and efficient. His military training helps with him following orders flawlessly and not being noisy, not once questioning even Mycroft’s oddest requests. He’s also quite skillful with firearms, although Mycroft hasn’t seen that firsthand yet. He had worried the psychosomatic limp would prove problematic, but the doctor doesn’t even remember it when he’s working.

Overall, he makes a nice substitute. He’s thinking about finding him a permanent position, actually, although he isn’t sure as what just yet.

He narrows his eyes, observing his companion closely. With anyone else he’d be worried about their potential hidden motives to decide “helping" him to  _ save face _ with his dear brother, but not with John. He knows the man was indeed ultimately trying to help, even if it wasn't quite needed. 

He has to admit he did enjoy his brother utter bafflement though.

He wonders if he can keep this farce for a little longer. It would certainly help with avoiding Sherlock’s teasing remarks (of that sort at least) and with any luck his little brother might even let it slip in front of Mummy, so she’ll get off his back about wanting grandchildren. Of course that would eventually mean he’ll have to bring John around and that-

He shudders at the thought. He doesn’t think either of them would survive that.

He looks at John once more, wondering how to broach the subject of whether he’d be willing to play pretend with his parents and endure Mummy’s interrogation or not. His assistant doesn’t notice though, busy as he is frowning at his phone. Mycroft sighs, wondering what sort of crisis has come up now.

Really, it’s like he already has children. Only these are grown up world leaders and therefore bound to cause more problems.

“What is it this time?” he asks tiredly, mentally preparing himself for what’s likely to be a very long night. John looks up, a slight frown on his face.

“Oh, nothing really,” he replies, passing his phone to Mycroft. “Just the CCTV recordings you always ask for. I just- I was wondering- but of course that’s none of my business…”

Mycroft frowns because he hasn’t requested any recordings. Except-

Oh. “You’re not supposed to get a copy of that mail,” he murmurs, gazing in horror at the records. “How-”

“Well, Anthea gave me her phone; said it’d save us the hassle of getting all the permissions and what-not, so maybe-”

She wasn’t supposed to know about that either! Mycroft’s whole face feels a little too warm and he’s fairly certain he’s as red as a tomato, but he can’t control his embarrassment. That wasn’t supposed to happen, dammit! Nobody was supposed to know-!

“I’m guessing that’s a personal business?” John prompts with a slight amused smile and Mycroft makes sure to send him his darkest glare, but the doctor seems immune to it and he continues smiling, looking more amused with each passing second. 

Mycroft scowls. How is that he can make world leaders shiver in fear when dealing with him and yet has no control whatsoever over his entirely too sassy personal assistants? He’s obviously doing something wrong, although he’ll have to think about that later. Right now-

“It’s none of your concern,” he informs John very seriously, erasing the email and sending one from his own phone to ensure this doesn’t happen ever again. He’s fairly certain he’s still blushing, but luckily John doesn’t press further, contenting himself with smirking and taking his phone back.

Mycroft sighs, leaning back on his seat. He had thought he had been very discreet about his…  _ infatuation  _ with Inspector Lestrade. It’s very likely Sherlock knows, of course, but the rest of the world was supposed to remain oblivious to the fact. It’s not like he was ever going to pursue anything with the man and while keeping the CCTV’s records from around the Yard, the Inspector’s house and wherever he might find himself during cases might have been slightly stalkery, he didn’t think it was  _ bad  _ per se. Besides, thanks to said records he could keep track of his brother’s own comings and goings as well as make sure the Inspector didn’t run into any trouble, so that makes it… better, right?

He groans. His brother might be right; he’s terrible at this  _ relationship  _ business.

John is very obviously attempting to hold back his laughter.

He seriously needs a new assistant.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts anyone?
> 
> Does the last part feels funny? I had originally planned for it to be longer, but I somehow don’t see Mycroft opening up to someone so easily as to be comfortable talking about his  _ crush  _ :P I’m not entirely sure if John’s actions make a lot of sense considering what we know so far of their relationship either, but well… it’s all for the sake of the plot! ;)
> 
> Also, I’m trying to reign in the Johncroft shipper in me. That’s a completely unnecessary complication and the easiest way to write me into a lovely mess. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought.


	4. Locked up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter!  
> Enjoy!

Greg needs to seriously reexamine all his life choices.

He obviously went wrong with letting Sherlock Holmes into his crime scenes. If he had known what was waiting for him down that particular path, he would have ignored the brilliant (if crazy sounding)  _ deductions  _ from the young genius and kicked him out of the scene, just like all his other colleges had.

Of course he’s the one who got promoted to Detective Inspector thanks to the Sherlock’s deductions, but that’s beside the point since it doesn’t make up for the mess he has just landed him in.

“Kindly stop pacing, Inspector.” Mycroft’s voice comes from the corner of the room, where the man has been sitting since this nightmare began. “You’re making me dizzy.”

Greg makes a face, eying the space next to Mycroft warily. The bench is big enough for them both to sit, but they’d be in very close quarters and considering the  _ surreal  _ conversation he had with Sherlock a few days ago, he’s not convinced that that’s the wisest course of action.

On the other hand, if he refuses to sit, that might seem suspicious and-

Oh, why does he bother? Mycroft probably can tell he’s uncomfortable with this whole situation. Then again, he supposes anyone would be, if they had been locked up in a tiny room with no means to escape.

“How did he manage this anyway?” he asks out loud, not really expecting an answer. He recalls Sherlock saying something about  _ a most vital clue  _ that they needed to find, pushing Greg into the tiny room and promptly locking the door after him. It’s ridiculous and childish and he has no clue what Sherlock is hoping to accomplish but he knows one thing for sure:

He’s going to murder the crazy bastard as soon as he gets out of here.

“My brother must have some crazy plan going on that would benefit from both of us not interfering,” Mycroft says after a beat and Greg turns to look at him. God dammit, must the man look so incredibly handsome even in these dire circumstances? The room is a little warm, probably due the lack of ventilation and Mycroft has taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves and Greg is making his damn best not to stare but he’s not made of stone! 

“Inspector? Is there something wrong?” 

Oh, there are many ways he could answer that, but none of them are anywhere near decent. Dear Lord, what is he going to do? “How did Sherlock get you in here?”

Mycroft makes a face, displeased. “I think he might have drugged my tea.”

Of course he did. That’s the sort of thing the madman would do. “Great. Well, as soon as Anthea notices you’re missing-”

“She’s on maternity leave.”

“She’s on  _ what _ ?” Greg finds himself asking because, well, he didn’t see that one coming. Mycroft smiles briefly, shrugging non committedly and the officer sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “So we’re trapped here for… however long Sherlock decides?”

Mycroft opens his mouth to reply and gets interrupted by the sound of door being opened. Greg turns around right away, coming face to face with a shorter blond man, who is staring at him curiously.

“Well, this is an interesting development,” the man comments, smirking lightly, eyes on Mycroft now. Greg hears the other man huff and make his way past him, towards the door. The shorter male is still smirking, but Mycroft ignores him and makes it out of the room, not looking back once.

The blond shakes his head, offering Greg one last wave before following Mycroft.

Now what the hell has just happened?

“Honestly Lestrade,” Sherlock says, appearing out of thin air and so startling the DI. “I wonder how you ever married in the first place. You’re utter crap at this seducing thing.”

Greg blinks. And blinks again. “Did you- did you just locked me up in a room with your brother so I could…  _ seduce _ him?” he asks incredulously, because that’s the craziest thing he has ever heard. Where does Sherlock get his ideas, anyway?

Sherlock hums, pulling out his phone. “On the bright side, I have John’s number now. He noticed my brother’s absence sooner than I expected though and I’m not sure if that’s-”

“Sherlock!” Greg interrupts sharply, annoyed and frustrated. “Why would you think that was a good idea?”

The consulting detective frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was a perfectly sound idea, Lestrade. It’s not my fault you’re so abysmally bad at  _ flirting _ .”

There are a hundred things Greg feels he should say, but he simply pinches the bridge of his nose, willing himself to calm down. He must remember Sherlock isn’t exactly an expert on human interaction, so of course this crazy scheme of his sounded perfectly logical in his funny little head. 

“Right, well, next time try to let me know about your plan, ok?”

Sherlock pouts but nods and Greg sighs, figuring that’s the best he can expect. God, why did he agree to this thing, anyway? It’s obviously not going to work and the only thing he’ll accomplish will be clueing the older Holmes into his  _ feelings  _ and that’s something he most definitely  _ does not _ want.

“We’re going to need a new plan now,” Sherlock says after a beat, startling Greg out of his increasingly depressing thoughts. “I don’t think I can drug Mycroft twice in a row without him noticing.”

“No more drugging!” Greg exclaims. “And no more locking us up in ridiculously small places!”

Sherlock rolls his eyes dramatically, turning around and stalking out of the room. Greg watches him go in silence and questions once more just what the hell was he thinking when he got involved with the Holmes brothers.

He should have known that would end in nothing but disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know! It’s super short! But we’re just getting started, so worry not! ;) Also, I’ve just finished my fic “[Lessons in romance](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9313244/chapters/21107840)”, so that should give me more time to work on this one (even if I have another crazy idea running wild inside my head :P)  
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought!


	5. Dangerous thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter! I meant to post this earlier but well… life happened :P  
> I hope you’ll enjoy it!

The commotion outside the room snaps John out of his stupor, making him look up from the papers he’s filling. Work at the clinic is  _ dull  _ on its best days, positively horrid most of the time. Back when that was all he was doing, he was convinced he was going to snap one of those days and-

He hears a pained yell and he’s out of the room a second later, his reflexes in top shape now that he’s actually doing something slightly more interesting (not always, since Mycroft seriously hates leg work and so he does spend a ridiculous amount of time in his office). He looks down the hall, searching for the source of the noise and while he thinks he should be somewhat surprised by whom it turns out to be, he isn’t.

“Mr. Holmes,” he greets as politely as he can, considering his rising frustration. “What are you doing?”

Sherlock Holmes attempts to shake off the two guards currently grabbing him by the arms, but neither men rescind their grip. “I’ve done nothing!” he exclaims dramatically, glaring at his captors. “These brutes came out of nowhere and attempted to kick me out.”

“Before or after you terrorized a nurse?”

“That’s besides the point!”

John opens his mouth to explain that’s exactly the point, but gets interrupted by a sharp cry. “What’s going on here?!” Sarah, the clinic’s supervisor and therefore his boss while he’s here is making her way towards them, a dark look on her face. “John, we agreed-”

“Yes, yes, I’m terribly sorry!” the former army doctor exclaims, turning to face her, putting on his best puppy eyes. “I’m sorry, Sarah, I just- I’ll get him out, I promise.”

The woman huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is the last time, John,” she warns, glaring at Sherlock from over John’s shoulder. “You’re a great doctor and I love having you here, but I can simply not continue tolerating this… madman!”

Sherlock begins protesting, but John nods and starts pulling him out of the building. He can hear the hushed whispers from both patients and staff, everyone curious about what’s going on and he can’t help blushing, slightly embarrassed.

“Really, Sherlock,” he says, once they’re outside. “What do you want this time?”

Sherlock is pouting like a scolded toddler and John hurries to stop himself from thinking how adorable he looks. The man is a nuisance and he seems determined to keep on  _ stalking  _ John at the clinic, so by all means, he should find him annoying.

Problem is, he really doesn’t.

“I hurt my hand,” Sherlock says. “See?”

John sighs as he spots the gash on the other man’s hand. It’s rather small and by no means something one needs a doctor for, but well…

“Come on,” he says, walking towards his flat. “I’ll patch you up at my place.” Sherlock seems to brighten up at the prospect and follows willingly, smiling brightly now and talking about one thing or another.

John really wishes he understood what the man is playing at.

But he has learned Holmeses are nearly impossible to read.

* * *

 

He works odd hours at the clinic; mostly when other doctors can’t make it or when they have too many patients. He had originally taken the job because he desperately needed the money, now he keeps it because he does like being a doctor and while being Mycroft’s assistant is occasionally interesting and much better paid, he sometimes misses it.

Mycroft doesn’t mind. He actually said it was probably for the best; the fewer people knew that John was working for him, the better. John has still to figure out  _ why,  _ but has decided it doesn’t matter much. Either way he’s getting paid in both places and civilian life gets a little less dull when you’re perpetually busy.

He risks a glance in Sherlock’s direction, who is busy looking around the flat, no doubt deducting all sort of disturbing things. John smiles a bit self deprecatingly to himself as he continues searching for his few medical supplies. He keeps a first aid kit at home, of course, but he always seems to place it somewhere different. Considering how small the flat is, it should be easy to find it but-

“You really don’t seem like my brother’s type,” Sherlock points out and John takes a deep breath. When he had hurried in Mycroft’s…  _ rescue _ during the party, he hadn’t thought the younger Holmes would be so interested in his brother’s love life. He hadn’t thought they would have to keep the charade for any longer, but Sherlock seems quite determined to  _ measure John up  _ and the doctor has figured out he should endure. If he tells Sherlock he and Mycroft have broken up for whatever reason, he’s fairly certain the younger man will tease Mycroft endlessly and so it all would have been for nothing.

John thinks it’s rather cute how concerned Sherlock is for his brother, even if he’ll probably rather die than admit it out loud. He smiles to himself, thinking it would be nice if Harry had ever taken any interest on whether or not his dates were  _ good for him.  _ Then again, the one time Harry had become involved in his love life, she had ended up stealing his girlfriend and later marrying her.

So yeah, maybe having your younger siblings meddling into your love life isn’t that great.

“He doesn’t seem to think so,” he replies non committally, humming happily when he finally spots his first aid kit and nearly dropping it again when he finds Sherlock has come to stand right in front of him. “Jesus, Sherlock. Don’t do that.”

The younger man frowns, but moves again, giving John space. The doctor sighs, kneeling down to pick up his stuff. He looks up and can’t help to notice how…  _ attractive  _ Sherlock is and he can’t help wishing he wasn’t trying to get him to stop teasing his older brother about his lack of love life. Hitting on him is definitely a no-no at this point.

Or at any other point, probably. He’s fairly certain Mycroft would have him murdered if he attempted to make a move on his baby brother. Never mind how annoying he might find him, he’s certainly the protective kind.

John sighs. Good Lord, what is he even thinking?

“Give me your hand,” he orders, hoping that getting down to work will distract him from his slightly disturbing thoughts. “You don’t need to keep doing this, you know?” he says as he starts cleaning the wound. “I might not be the kind of fellow your brother usually goes for, but I promise I’m a decent one. I’m not going to hurt him or anything.”

“Now why would you think I’m concerned about him?”

John arches an eyebrow, amused and Sherlock huffs, looking away. “And we’re done,” John announces, finishing wrapping up his injured hand. “Now, just be careful, alright? I would have never thought you’re this clumsy based on what your brother has told me.”

Sherlock nods, holding his hand to his chest and looking oddly vulnerable. “Thank you, John.”

The doctor smiles and watches him slip out of the flat, thinking once more it’s a pity he’s “involved” with the older Holmes.

But maybe that’s for the best.

He really doesn’t want to be on Mycroft Holmes’ blacklist, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?  
> I fear this is going too slow. What do you guys think? Should I speed things up a little?  
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought!


	6. Back up plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter! I hope you’ll enjoy it!

Greg thinks he should be slightly more wary of coming to his supposedly empty home and find the lights on, not to mention the mess the living room is. But then he has know Sherlock Holmes for over a decade and this sort of thing happens on regular basis, so he simply drops his keys at the kitchen table and heads into the bedroom, when the madman/part time consulting detective is rummaging through his clothes.

“Hello Sherlock,” he greets plainly, looking around the room dejectedly. “What are you doing?” he questions calmly, signaling the various items lying haphazardly on his bedroom floor.

“Do I have to do everything?” the younger man says, ignoring his question as he takes out a garment bag, examining its contents distastefully. “Do you own anything that looks remotely presentable?”

Greg sighs, figuring there’s no use on replying and simply taking a seat on the bed as he watches Sherlock go through his entire wardrobe, murmuring angrily to himself. He’s considering going to pour himself a drink when Sherlock makes an approving noise and he turns around to find the madman has found- “That’s my wedding suit.”

Sherlock frowns. “Why would you- Nevermind. This will do.”

Greg glares at the garment for a beat. He had thought the thing was ridiculously expensive, but his mother had insisted. She was quite set on having a big wedding, regardless of his thoughts on the matter and so he had ended up buying a lot of expensive  _ unnecessary  _ stuff, as he recalls. 

Like his wedding suit. It’s a dark blue color, elegant but extremely  _ posh  _ for him and he remembers spending the whole ceremony feeling  _ wrong.  _ All things considered though, maybe that had been his good sense attempting to save him from making the biggest mistake of his life.

“You can borrow it,” he says, waving a hand vaguely. “You can destroy it for all I care.”

Sherlock scoffs. “I’m not wearing it. You are.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re accompanying my brother to a… dinner or something. I wasn’t really listening.”

“What?! Why?!”

Sherlock rolls his eyes dramatically, as if Greg is the one being deliberately dense. “Because he needs someone to go with him and help him distract… someone. Again, I wasn’t listening.”

Greg takes a deep breath. “Why isn’t he taking his boyfriend?”

“John is… indisposed.” Sherlock blushes brightly, avoiding Greg’s eyes and the older man sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Sherlock, did you drugged your brother’s boyfriend?”

“It was an experiment!” he defends and Greg groans aloud. “I didn’t- it wasn’t supposed- It was an actual accident,” he says, looking sheepish and Greg isn’t sure what to believe. “But it worked out for the best! Now I’ll watch over him tonight and you-”

_ Tonight? _ “Tonight?” 

“Yes. In… 2 hours or so,” he announces, glancing at his watch. “We have enough time to make you look presentable. Or somewhat presentable, at the very least.”

Greg takes a deep breath, reminding himself not to lose his temper. It’s not Sherlock’s fault he has very little grasp of how humans work. “Sherlock, I’m deadly tired. I haven’t slept in two days, I’ve barely eaten, I just cracked a very difficult case-”

“It was barely a 5-”

“-The point is!” Greg interrupts loudly, startling the other man. “I’m not doing this.”

Sherlock huffs. “Of course you are.”

“No, I-”

“Are you seriously going to turn down a date with my brother?”

“It’s not a date!” Greg exclaims, wondering how he got himself in this ridiculous mess. “I’m a backup plan and only because you, being your usual,  _ difficult  _ self got Mycroft’s boyfriend knocked out.” He pauses as an idea comes to him. “Where did you leave him, by the way?”

“Who, John? He’s in Mycroft’s office right now. They were supposed to meet there, but John had been helping me-”

“Why do you even need me?” Greg asks tiredly, rubbing his temples. “You seem to be doing a fine job of attempting to steal the boyfriend away on your own.”

Sherlock pouts, looking away. “He’s quite convinced I’m trying to decide if he’s good for Mycroft. Which is crazy because why would I care? But John seems to think me a better person than I am and that might actually play in my favour so…”

Greg blinks. And blinks again. “You’re absolutely crazy, you know?”

“No, I’m not. I’m a genius, remember?”

“A crazy genius,” Greg murmurs, eying his suit warily. “If I do this, do you promise you won’t push me into another of your crazy schemes for a while? No, I don’t care if it’s for the  _ greater good  _ or whatever,” he adds as he sees Sherlock opening his mouth to protest. The younger male crosses his arms in front of his chest but nods and Greg supposes he should count himself lucky. “Alright then. Let’s do this.”

Sherlock beams brightly, like a proper madman and Greg wonders once more why does he continue putting up with him.

It’s obvious this is going to end badly.

* * *

 

“I can not express how thankful I am you could accompany me tonight despite the short notice, Detective Inspector,” Mycroft is saying, but Greg is having a hard time trying to concentrate on his words. He usually thinks the man looks handsome and collected, but right now-

That John is a real lucky bastard.

He smiles, figuring that’s the polite thing to do, while assuring Mycroft it’s really no trouble. And it isn’t; under any other circumstances he would be happy to be doing this (not that he’s not  thrilled to be here, honestly) but considering the crazy  _ plan  _ Sherlock has in motion-

He can’t help worrying this is going to be a disaster.

“So, this boyfriend of yours,” he says and regrets it a second later, when Mycroft turns sharply to him. “I mean… umm… have you… been dating long?” he asks awkwardly, fairly certain he’s blushing to the roots of his hair.

Mycroft looks away, shrugging non committedly. “Not that long. It’s not- I don’t know what Sherlock has told you, but it’s really…” he gestures vaguely and Greg frowns, wondering what’s going on. “It’s good.”

Wow. What an enthusiastic answer.

Maybe Sherlock is right. Maybe Mycroft and the boyfriend breaking up would be for the best. Not that that would improve Greg’s chances of getting an actual date, of course, but-

Well, a man can dream, can’t he?

Oh good Lord, he’s going to keep playing along, isn’t he?

Who’s the madman now, huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?  
> I have mixed feelings about this. I want to keep it short and light and silly, but the angst keeps sneaking up on me and I’m so very weak willed! Considering how silly the premise is however, I really think I should keep it short but well… there’s not a lot of seduction happening, is it?  
> Oh well, I suppose I’ll figure out something sooner or later :P  
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought!


	7. A revelation (of sorts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter! It’s short and I’m not entirely happy with it, but I hope you’ll enjoy it!

“Sooooooooo… how did the date go?”

Mycroft arches an eyebrow, taking off his coat and placing it in the small closet by the door, eying his obviously very drugged PA with mild amusement. “You’re still high on whatever Sherlock gave you? What was that thing?”

“No idea,” John replies easily, a big smile on his face. “But we had a great time tonight! He’s a lot of fun!”

He and John have very different ideas of what  _ fun  _ is, clearly. “That’s nice. Now it’s time for you to go to bed and sleep this off.”

The other pouts dramatically. “But I want to hear how your date went!” he protests, stomping his feet a little and Mycroft thinks it’s a good thing Sherlock is his brother or he’d have been a very dead man long ago.

And speaking of the devil…

“Where’s Sherlock? Wasn’t he supposed to be looking over you tonight?”

John’s smile is wide and bright as the sun, which Mycroft doesn’t think bodes well for the future. “He’s asleep!” he announces proudly, standing up a bit straighter or at least attempting to. “He insisted he was fine, but he had been working on a case and hadn’t slept in 3 days, so…” he waves a hand vaguely, still smiling, evidently quite proud of having managed to put Sherlock to bed.

Not a small feature, to be honest. “That’s... good, I suppose,” Mycroft replies slowly and John seems to preen under the praise. The older man smiles tightly, approaching his PA and proceeding to drag him in the general direction of the bedrooms. “He’s in one of the guest rooms, then?”

John huffs. “As if. He’s in the living room, completely passed out. We were watching a movie and he just…” he trails off, smiling dreamily and Mycroft frowns, wondering what that is about. “He’s got such nice hair, have you noticed?”

Mycroft stops abruptly, his frown deepening, but John doesn’t notice, instead he continues walking, talking animatedly to himself about Sherlock various  _ charms  _ (or something like that). Mycroft simply watches in horror, wondering how could this happen to him.

Oh, he knew that brief moment of triumph over his brother after John introduced himself as his  _ boyfriend  _ was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Now his supposed  _ boyfriend  _ is infatuated with his brother and Sherlock is never going to let him forget it (regardless of whether or not he actually ends up dating Dr. Watson).

Maybe it’d be better to come clean now. Surely letting Sherlock know it was all a charade is ten times better than letting him believe he managed to snatch his boyfriend away?

“Mycroft?” John has finally noticed him not following and is now staring at him expectantly. Mycroft smiles tightly and gestures for him to go on, not really in the mood to attempt to get any sleep now. John blinks a couple of times and then shrugs, entering his room (although not technically because he does have that horrid flat of his, even if he spends most nights here).

Mycroft sighs, rubbing his temples tiredly and heading towards his own room. He undresses quickly and mechanically, trying to avoid thinking of his brother and his PA, what might develop between them and the implications that that could have. Instead, he tries to focus on his bright points of the night: Gregory’s nervous smile when he picked him up, his bright laugh, the ease with which he dealt with that horrid people Mycroft most definitely didn’t want to deal with but had to be  _ polite  _ to. How handsome he looked in that nice suit and the way he blushed adorably when Mycroft said as much (or something close. Well, actually it had been something like  _ it’s a very flattering suit,  _ but the point stands).

He sighs. He generally knows better than to indulge in these silly daydreams. Innocent as they might be, they do nothing for his mental health. There’s no use in thinking about things that  _ can not be _ and that do nothing but make him long for all the things he  _ can not  _ have.

He knows he’s not the most…  _ personable  _ fellow and that he can come across as cold and dispassionate. Sherlock is prone to black moods, but those have nothing on his own: he is a true nightmare to be around when he’s in a dark mood. He can spend  _ days  _ lost in his own head and he doesn’t particularly care for physical contact.

In short, he’s as far from ideal partner as they come.

He does like Inspector Lestrade, probably more than what’s healthy for a man like himself. He occasionally indulges himself with thoughts of what  _ could  _ be, but he knows better than to attempt something. He knows that even if by some miracle the Inspector felt inclined to  _ give him a chance,  _ there’s no way in hell it could ever work and so, why bother? If you know you’re going to be disappointed, why even try?

It’s a pessimistic and bleak view, he’ll admit as much but he’s found it’s better to think the worst. It makes good things seem better and bad things don’t seem as horrid when you were already prepared for them.

He sighs once more, laying down on the bed and staring at the ceiling for the longest time. All this… charade with John, brief as their interactions are when his brother is around, has made him long for something he had quite convinced himself he didn’t need (or want). He has no idea how John might be with his actual partners, but he certainly touches him  _ a lot _ ; small things that most people wouldn’t even think about, like a pat on the shoulder, a squeeze on his elbow, a dropped kiss on the top of his head: innocent, not entirely romantic and yet-

It has made him think of how it’d be with someone he actually  _ cared for. _ And that, inevitably, always leads to thoughts of a certain Detective Inspector that despite his best efforts he simply can not get over his silly infatuation. It certainly doesn’t help that Inspector Lestrade seems able to deal with Sherlock’s…  _ oddities  _ without a hitch and so that gives Mycroft hope for his own… eccentricities.

Not that he’s ever actually going to pursue that relationship, loneliness and longing be damned.

But-

He sighs, forcing himself to close his eyes and take deep steady breaths in an effort to put himself to sleep. Tomorrow is bound to be a long day and it won’t benefit from him getting a poor sleep.

Besides, with any luck, he’ll be able to forget all about these silly thoughts if he rests well enough. He’s probably just tired right now and so not thinking clearly.

Yes, tomorrow will be another day.

* * *

 

“So, how did it go? Did you have  _ fun _ ?”

Mycroft can’t tell for sure if the inflection in the last word his brother utters signals disdain, sarcasm or honest curiosity, but he figures not answering is the wisest course of action. Sherlock rolls his eyes dramatically, taking a seat in front of him. 

They sit in silence for the longest time, both lost in their thoughts, both sulking and trying to look like they aren’t. A sound coming from the hallway makes them both look up as John walks into the kitchen, sleep ruffled but apparently sober (if with a bit of a headache, judging by the way his nose is scrunched).

“Tough night?” Mycroft questions with a sly smile and John sends a glare in his direction, heading straight for the kettle. From the corner of his eye, Mycroft watches his brother following the doctor’s every movement, looking entirely fascinated.

Sherlock catches him watching and blushes profusely, before fixing his eyes on his own tea cup and pretending to be interested in its contents.

Well. This is interesting.

John sits next to him, making a face as he tastes the tea. Sherlock is back to observing him closely and when Mycroft places a hand over his “boyfriend’s”, Sherlock glares darkly at him.

Huh. Curioser and curioser.

Mycroft pulls away, thinking about this new development. It seems John’s infatuation with the younger Holmes isn’t one sided, but that brings the question of why hasn’t Sherlock made a move. His brother isn’t shy about claiming what he wants, regardless of Mycroft’s feelings or thoughts on the matter, so this seems… weird, to be honest.

He considers telling Sherlock the truth once and for all, in the off chance his baby brother is actually holding himself back for his sake. But then he reaches for a small pastry, Sherlock makes a rude comment about his weight and Mycroft glares.

Fine, Sherlock wants to be a jerk.

Two can play that game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?  
> I originally planned for John to be the first one to “figure out” what’s going on (but not really, because he wasn’t supposed to know Sherlock was attempting to “steal” him away) but well… this seemed to fit. I hope it made sense to you?  
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought!


	8. Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter! Sorry for the late update but well… I didn’t work most of last week and I was in the middle of a big project this week, so I didn’t have as much time to write as I usually do.  
> So, without further ado, enjoy!

“I’ll see you tonight then.”

“Will you?” Greg asks absentmindedly, busy as he’s typing his latest report. Sherlock has just come by to sign his statement on the case they’ve just solved and to be quite honest, Greg was kinda hoping not seeing the madman for a little while. He does like Sherlock (and he cares for him), but only in small doses. 

He looks up after noticing Sherlock is staring intently at him. He arches an eyebrow questioningly and the younger man scoffs. “Walk me outside?” he suggests/orders and Greg stares puzzledly at him for a beat before complying. He’s far too used to following Sherlock’s lead, even when it seems completely crazy.

He gets odd looks from his co workers but he ignores them with practiced ease. He finds Sally Donovan outside the building, having a smoke and the woman frowns, looking more than a tad confused. Greg shrugs and she rolls her eyes dramatically, making him chuckle.

“So, was there something-?” he begins, turning back to Sherlock and getting interrupted by the other man’s lips over his.

Wait. What?

He responds on autopilot, without really noticing and makes an startled little noise when Sherlock wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him flushed against his body. By now the scene has turned just too bizarre for Greg’s poor brain and so it has decided to shut down until more information on  _ what is Sherlock doing  _ is available.

Sadly, that happens entirely too often for comfort.

By the time they pull apart, Greg has grown breathless. He stares at Sherlock uncomprehendingly and the consulting detective offers him a smug smile before turning around sharply and hurrying down the street to catch a cab. Greg remains where he is, just staring and trying to make sense of what has just happened.

He turns around just to find Sally staring at him as if he has grown a second head. In all honesty, that would probably be less strange that what has just happened, actually.

“What the hell was that?” Sally demands loudly, stepping closer to him. “Since when- how did you- oh my god!”

In lieu of a response, Greg simply heads back inside.

* * *

 

In an entirely expected turn of events, there’s a black car parked outside the office when he finally leaves. Greg sighs dramatically and hurries towards it, climbing inside without any hesitation. There’s a man already sitting inside, instead of Mycroft’s assistant and Greg nods at him politely, thinking he’s a little short and not particularly buff for a hitman. But then, he supposes, appearances can be deceiving.

The man does seem familiar, though, even if he can’t quite place him.

The man smiles politely at him and then promptly turns his attention to his phone. Another assistant, then? Well, that’s good, he supposes. It means Mycroft isn’t planning his immediate demise.

There’s a chance he wants to do it himself, of course, but Greg is hopeful.

They make it to an abandoned warehouse and Greg sighs before stepping out of the car. “I thought we were past this,” he comments to no one in particular and his companion chuckles, before walking into the building. Greg follows resignedly; this certainly isn’t the first time Sherlock has gotten himself into a life threatening situation.

Although the reason behind it is certainly the craziest.

The warehouse’s inside is surprisingly nice, like your regular government office. Secret, then, but not the kind of place your get people  _ dealt with.  _ Well, the future is certainly looking less gloomy by the second.

His car companion has already walked into one of the offices and Greg follows willingly enough, not surprised at all to find Mycroft waiting for him. There are a bunch of documents surrounding him, but he keeps his eyes fixed on him as he takes a seat in front of the desk, making Greg gulp, not used and not entirely comfortable with the close staring.

“So nice you could meet us on this lovely evening, Inspector. I shall do my best not to interfere with your dinner plans.”

Greg doesn’t have any dinner plans he knows of, but he doesn’t comment. There’s something in Mycroft’s gaze that worries him endlessly, but he can’t quite pinpoint the emotion there. “Is there something you wished to discuss?” he asks after a while, when the silence becomes too uncomfortable. Mycroft narrows his eyes, leaning back on his seat.

“What exactly are your intentions towards my brother?” he asks, his tone deadly calm and Greg can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine. 

_ Figuring out what the hell he’s playing at,  _ he thinks, but doesn’t say. “Honorable, I assure you.”

Mycroft’s assistant lets out a small chuckle and the older man turns to glare at him. The blond offers him a sheepish smile.

“I hope so, Inspector. It’d be a pity if something was to occur you due… rash decisions,” Mycroft says, turning his attention back to him. “You know how I worry about my brother.”

The assistant chuckles once more and Mycroft narrows his eyes at him. Greg wonders how is that the man is still alive. “Something funny, John?”

The blond laughs openly this time, shaking his head. “You’re so dramatic, darling.”

Mycroft glares, but doesn’t protest at the endearment and Greg stares intently at the man. Oh. So this is the  _ boyfriend  _ Sherlock is attempting to steal. “Right,” he says, standing up and startling his companions. “If that’s all, I’ll be taking my leave,” he announces, not really in the mood to watch Mycroft making eyes at his boyfriend. 

Mycroft seems about to say something, but Greg doesn’t wait for him to do so and instead hurries out of the office and towards the car. He wonders bitterly if a literal death would have been less painful.

He always knew Mycroft was well out his league and Sherlock had already told him he was seeing someone, but to see it with his own two eyes-

It’s more than he can bear.

* * *

 

The lights on his flat are on and Greg sighs, thinking he really doesn’t want to deal with Sherlock right now. He offers Mycroft’s  _ boyfriend  _ a polite goodbye before slipping out of the car, feeling drained out.

He only talked to John for a few minutes on their way back to his flat, but the man is exactly the kind of fellow Greg always imagined Mycroft would be interested in. He’s very personable, charming and witty, with a slight sarcastic vein. Greg could tell he was fishing for information on his  _ relationship  _ with Sherlock (probably on Mycroft’s instructions, although he supposes it’s likely he’s somewhat fond of the mad bastard), but he was very subtle at it. If Greg wasn’t so used to dealing with the Holmes brothers, he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

“So, how did it go?” Sherlock asks excitedly, nearly jumping up and down and Greg sighs.

“Your brother and his boyfriend wish us all the happiness in the world,” he deadpans darkly, dropping himself on the couch and burying his face in his hands. “I’ll be a very dead man otherwise.”

There’s a beat of silence and then Sherlock jumps over the table, startling him. “What?!”

Greg shrugs. “I know you have your whole crazy theory about your brother  _ liking  _ me, but he seems happy enough with John, so-”

“No, no, that can’t be!” Sherlock exclaims. “We’re not- we need to-”

“Sherlock, stop,” the inspector says tiredly, standing up and grabbing him by the wrists. “It’s over. There’s nothing left to do.”

Sherlock pouts and frees himself, stomping out of the flat a few seconds later. Greg collapses back on the couch and sighs once more.

God, what a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?  
> We’re nearing the end of this particular tale (I think); it’ll depend entirely on how the next one goes ;) Don’t worry though, the drama won’t last and they’ll figure it out soon enough :P  
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought?


	9. Silly crushes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter! I wrote this yesterday, but I was planning on posting until Monday. But then my husband decided he wanted to work on Saturday and since I’m daugther-less… well, here we are :P  
> I hope you’ll like it!

“So, what is your plan?”

Sherlock looks around himself, searching for anything that can be used as a weapon. He’s more than a little startled by the intruder in his flat and annoyed his silly  _ emotions  _ made him miss the fact that there was an unexpected guest to begin with.

“Really?” John asks as Sherlock swings a umbrella in his general direction. “That’s not like Mycroft’s umbrella, is it?” he asks after a beat, as Sherlock continues observing him, looking still quite startled. “Sherlock. It’s me.”

Yes, of course it is. Sherlock puts his improvised weapon away, feeling his cheeks heating up. Right, this is exactly what his dreadful evening needed: him making something embarrassing in front of the man he might or might not be slightly infatuated with and who, apparently, his brother is deadly serious about continuing dating even after Sherlock practically delivered a wrapped up Lestrade to him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks tiredly, heading towards the kitchen. He had had high hopes for his latest plan, but it seems he made some serious miscalculations. He has never been a fan of being  _ wrong  _ and on this particular subject…

Well.

“Shouldn’t you be at your  _ boyfriend’s  _ house?” John asks, following after him. “After your little display in front of the Yard’s office, one would think you’d be… keeping each other company for the night.”

Sherlock frowns, confused by what John is attempting to imply. He arches an eyebrow questioningly and the other man smirks, which makes Sherlock’s knees go weak, but he refuses to acknowledge it. “I know what you’re trying to do.” John announces smugly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

No, he must definitely doesn’t. “And what, pray tell, am I trying to do?” he asks, aiming to sound amused, but uncaring and yet not quite succeeding.

John’s smirk widens. “You’re trying to set up your brother with Inspector Lestrade.”

Well, yes. But does he know why? “Why would I do that?”

John pouts and Sherlock looks away, telling himself attempting to kiss that pout away won’t end well for anyone involved. “That I’m not entirely sure just yet,” he confesses, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. “I’d say you’re just being a good brother, but that doesn’t really strike me as something you’d do, particularly not after giving Mycroft such a hard time over his lack of lovelife.” Sherlock scoffs and John smirks. “Besides, you must have been aware of his  _ infatuation  _ for a long time, so why now?”

Sherlock frowns. “You know about my brother’s  _ crush  _ on Lestrade?”

John shrugs non committedly. “Hard to miss all the surveillance records of outside the Yard, his home and his crime scenes. To be honest, I was quite relieved to find out your brother had a  _ personal interest  _ in him since I was quite convinced we had a very dangerous criminal in our hands.”

Sherlock scoffs. “Gavin would make a lousy criminal.”

“It’s Greg, actually,” John corrects, a bright smile on his face, looking entirely too cheerful for someone who’s speaking about their boyfriend’s  _ crush.  _

“That doesn’t bother you?” Sherlock demands, perhaps a tad incredulous and it’s John’s turn to frown.

“Is that what this is about? You think we shouldn’t be dating because he likes someone else? Well, granted, I think-”

“No!” Sherlock interrupts, getting slightly annoyed. John looks at him, brow furrowed. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t- As you said, I’ve known of their ridiculous  _ crush  _ on each other since forever but I knew they both were too dense to do anything about it. I thought- it didn’t really affect me in any way, so…” he gestures vaguely, feeling himself blushing once more under John’s thoughtful gaze.

“Alright, sounds about right,” John says, still staring closely at him. “So, why now?” he repeats, tone gentle but still curious.

Sherlock stares at him and he wants to tell him, he really does, but he’s not about to embarrass himself by confessing his own ridiculous  _ crush,  _ so- “Is there something wrong with me?” John asks, looking somewhere between puzzled and hurt. “Do you- I mean, I’m not- do you just not like me or something? Why interfer now, if it had never bothered you before?”

Sherlock bites his lip, wondering if he should risk it. John looks honestly miserable and really, what’s the worst that could happen? (that’s a rhetorical question, of course. There are many bad outcomes that Sherlock is unwilling to considerate right now). “I don’t like you for my brother.”

John nods slowly. “Alright. Why-?”

“Because I’d rather have you dating me.”

There’s a long tense silence after that and Sherlock is half tempted to bolt. But that would be silly since  _ this is his flat  _ and if someone should be taking his leave after practically forcing the uncomfortable confession out of him, it should be John.

“Right,” John says, sounding more bewildered than anything else. “So just let me get this straight: you want your brother to get together with Inspector Lestrade so he’ll… dump me?” Sherlock nods, aware he’s red as a tomato. “So you can date me?” Another nod and John just blinks a couple of times, as if processing the information.

“Right,” he repeats after what feels like a lifetime. “I’m- I’m going to go now. But I’ll be back.”

And with that he’s gone, leaving a thoroughly confused (and perhaps a tad heartbroken) Sherlock behind.

Just what the hell has just happened?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?
> 
> As I said, we’re approaching the ending of this silly tale. I could have dragged on the misunderstanding for a little longer, but this seems to work better, don’t you agree? Besides, I really do have a ridiculous number of WIPs, even though I’m nearly done with [Priceles](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9629420/chapters/21755447)s, but then I started [Baby, don’t call me your friend](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10608072/chapters/23456079) and well… yeah, I really should be wrapping things up (particularly since [The art of letting go](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10496904/chapters/23157252) is looking like it’ll turn into a monster fic :P)
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you thought? 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	10. The truth might be the best policy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter! It’s short, but well- we’re getting there, I swear!  
> Enjoy!

There’s a ridiculous tower of paperwork sitting on top of Mycroft’s desk. John is fairly certain it was far shorter when he left, nearly two hours ago and considering the time it is, he seriously doubts new paperwork magically appeared. Besides, Mycroft doesn’t usually bother with actual paperwork, leaving most of it to John so he can simply sign it after it has been revised.

“What are you doing?” the doctor/part time PA asks, startling the other man. That just adds to John’s suspicions, since he doubts there’s anything important enough to take most of Mycroft’s focus away from his surroundings.

“Working,” Mycroft replies simply, looking back to the document he’s allegedly revising, pretending nothing out of the normal is going on. John rolls his eyes dramatically and drops himself at the chair in front of the desk, startling Mycroft once again. 

“Is this about your brother and Inspector Lestrade?”

There’s the slightest change in Mycroft’s expression, before he puts back together his blank mask. He stares at John as if he’s the one being deliberately dense, one eyebrow arched, as if expecting him to apologize for interrupting, particularly with such an stupid inquiry and scurry away.

That’s not happening, of course.

“So it is about your brother and Inspector Lestrade,” John says calmly and Mycroft clenches his jaw before determinately turning around, pretending to be organizing something in the shelves behind his desk. John sighs, rubbing his temples, wondering why every member of this family is so emotionally constipated.

He’s rather wishing he had gotten to meet the Holmes parents. It’d make an entertaining and enlightening experience, if nothing more.

“They’re not actually dating, you know?” he says, watching his  _ interlocutor  _ closely, waiting for his reaction. Mycroft pauses for a couple of beats and then continues with his pretense, which makes John groan dramatically. “I mean, Sherlock did snog the living lights out of the good Inspector and he did visit him tonight at this flat, but they haven’t engaged in any horizontal tango, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Mycroft makes a small disgusted sound, turning around to face him once more, nose scrunched in displeasure. “That’s an image I didn’t need, Watson,” he practically growls, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Ah, so you were worried about that,” John continues, as if he isn’t being glared down by one of the most dangerous men in London. “Well- let me put your mind at ease. Apparently, your brother has no intention of engaging in intercouse-”

“Oh, dear god, Watson!” Mycroft exclaims, standing up abruptly. “I don’t need- No, I don’t want- what’s your bloody point?”

John remains unperturbed, nothing but a small smirk betraying his amusement. No older brother wants to even  _ consider  _ the fact that their baby sibling has a sex life, but he supposes it’s even worse when their  _ crush  _ of many,  _ many  _ years might or might not be involved in said sex life.

“What I’m trying to say is that your brother is, in an admittedly very weird and roundabout way, attempting to set you up with Inspector Lestrade.”

Mycroft blinks a couple of times, as if processing the information. John smirks happily to himself, leaning back on his seat, wondering if he has managed to break the British Government. It might be disastrous for the country, of course and he suspects that if that’s the case he’ll have a very annoyed actual PA to deal with very soon, but it’s certainly hilarious to watch.

“What?” Mycroft asks finally, brow furrowed, looking somewhere between hopeful and frightened. John takes pity of him then, figuring he has teased him enough.

He leans forward, resting his elbows against the table. “Sherlock is attempting to make you realize you really belong with Inspector Lestrade, so you’ll dump me.” Mycroft snorts and John smirks. “As I said, weird and roundabout way.”

“Indeed,” Mycroft agrees, expression thoughtful. “Would I be right to assume he’s expecting once I’ve  _ dumped  _ you, he’ll get to date you?”

“You knew?” John demands, more than a tad confused now.

“I knew he fancied you, yes,” Mycroft replies calmly, smirking as John’s jaw drops. “And I was going to tell him our  _ relationship  _ was a farce to get him off my back but as you’ve seen… we have a complicated relationship.”

John nods, perhaps a tad unbelieving. “Right. Right. I’ll consider myself officially dumped then. Have a pleasant evening.”

“I did not say such thing,” Mycroft says, making John turn around to face him once more, one eyebrow raised. “I’m not- We haven’t-”

“We’re not really dating,” John interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest. “You like this Lestrade fellow, Sherlock is 100% certain he likes you back, your brother wants to date me, I want to date your brother- just why exactly aren’t we ending this charade?”

Mycroft makes a face, apparently not liking the obvious being pointed out. “Did you tell Sherlock?”

“That we’re not actually dating? No, I- I wanted to talk to you first.” He shrugs, feeling a tad embarrassed under Mycroft’s questioning gaze. “I mean- I just- I was trying to help you save face with your brother. Somehow, telling him we never actually dated didn’t seem very appropriate.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m going to tell him that the minute I told you he had gotten Inspector Lestrade to play along with his crazy plan to  _ seduce you away,  _ you decided to dump me right away. Which is fine by me, because I really think it could work between us.”

Mycroft seems to consider this for a long time. John would admit it sounds all kinds of silly and it’d be far easier to come clean, but he does like Mycroft and he doesn’t think he deserves all the teasing he gets from Sherlock.

“Wouldn’t that imply I have to actually  _ date  _ Inspector Lestrade?”

John stares, unbelieving. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“I- I mean- I don’t-”

John stares and stares and stares some more, enjoying the various shades of red Mycroft is turning. The poor fellow truly has no idea how to go about this relationship business, does he? “Just talk to him. I think- I really think you should give it a shot. I mean, the guy is obviously into you, considering he agreed to go with your brother’s absolutely  _ crazy  _ plan and you’ve been practically  _ stalking  _ him for years- don’t bother to deny it.” Mycroft is pouting and John thinks he shouldn’t find it as funny as he does, but he can’t help himself. “So really, talk to him.”

Mycroft nods thoughtfully, looking around the room absentmindedly. “Have a nice evening then, John.”

John bites his lip, considering. He feels like he should say something else, but he doesn’t think it’s really his place. What happens now is entirely up to Mycroft, although he hopes it’ll turn out for the best.

“Good night,” he says, turning around and exiting the office, closing the door gently after himself. He sighs, leaning against the door and thinking carefully about his next move.

Right. Time to go back to Sherlock then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?  
> I think this will have just one chapter more, unless the conversation with the boys go disastrously wrong. I think it’s all pretty wrapped up by now, but I’d love to hear what do you guys think ;)  
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought!


	11. The truth will set you free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are! The final chapter!   
> Enjoy!

The sound of someone coming upstairs startles Sherlock out his Mind Palace. He has spent the last hour attempting to make sense of John’s odd behavior during their last conversation, but he can’t truly understand the doctor’s quick disappearance. It was all very odd and he thinks he’s even more out of his deep when it comes to relationships than he originally thought.

He looks up, just to find John standing at the door, looking like he has just run a marathon. Sherlock arches an eyebrow questioningly and the other man laughs, before coming all the way into the flat. Sherlock sits up, suddenly feeling nervous, unsure of what all this means.

“So… I went to talk to your brother,” John begins and Sherlock finds himself tensing involuntarily. He and Mycroft don’t have the best relationship in the world, but he’s fairly certain that attempting to steal his boyfriend won’t help their relationship one bit. “I- There’s something I need to tell you. But first, you have to promise to never ever again tease your brother about his love life.”

Sherlock pouts, but John’s serious face tells him now is not the time to make despairing comments about his brother. Besides, he’s curious about what the doctor has to say (and perhaps a tad hopeful).

“Alright,” he agrees slowly. John continues staring at him, as if trying to read into his very soul and Sherlock can’t help to squirm a little under the intense stare. Is this how people normally feel when he’s staring a little too intently?

“I wasn’t actually dating your brother,” John says finally and Sherlock stares. And stares some more. And a little more.

“What?” he asks finally, completely baffled and John smiles tentatively.

“I just- at the party, when we met, I- I overheard your conversation and since I know how horrible teasing siblings can be I just sort of- I obviously didn’t think it through, but at the moment it seemed like a good idea.” Sherlock blinks and John smiles hesitantly. “I wasn’t going to tell you,” he confesses, biting his lip gently. “I was actually going to tell you we just broke up over the fact that Inspector Lestrade is actually interested in him but it seemed… I wasn’t sure it was the best way to start our relationship.”

Sherlock blinks once more, the words meaning slowly registering. “Does this mean-?”   
“Yes,” John interrupts him, perhaps a tad too eager and he laughs nervously when his eyes meet Sherlock’s. “But you can’t tell your brother I told you truth. Also, you can’t make nasty comments about this whole charade.”

“Huh,” Sherlock says, leaning back on his seat, his confidence now recovered. “I’m not sure you’re making a very compelling argument, Dr. Watson. This is, after all, very good teasing material.”

John rolls his eyes dramatically, carefully positioning himself on Sherlock’s lap, making the younger man gulp nervously. “Oh, really?” he asks, amused, before pressing his lips to Sherlock’s in a breathtaking kiss.

Well. That’s certainly a compelling argument.

 

* * *

 

The knock on his door pulls Greg out of his restless sleep. He blinks at the dark room, trying to figure out what exactly woke him up. Another knock has him frowning, but getting out of the bed and pulling his gun from its hiding place before heading towards the door.

He takes a deep breath before yanking the door open, getting ready to spring into action if needed and instead freezes on the spot as he catches sight of the person standing at the other side of the door. Mycroft arches an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by Greg’s dropped jaw and so Greg simply moves away, allowing him in.

“I do apologize for the late hour, Inspector,” he says calmly, looking around the living room slightly disdainful. The place is a mess of dirty dishes and a few empty beer bottles and Greg blushes furiously, wishing he had had enough presence of mind to clean after himself last night. Then again, considering how his night had ended-

Yeah, he really shouldn’t be thinking about that. It’ll do nothing but upset him.

“So, what happened?” Greg asks, as he attempts to clean up a little. Mycroft takes seat on his ratty couch and Greg tries not to cringe as the man attempts to find a comfortable position.

“I- I should probably have waited till tomorrow,” the other man says, attempting to stand up and Greg can tell when someone is hiding something, so on instinct, he pushes him back on his seat. Mycroft glares a little but Greg simply sits in front of him and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Mycroft, what’s going on?” he’s feeling tired and cranky, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to let Mycroft Holmes walk out of his apartment without telling him what was bothering him so much that he decided on an impromptu visit in the middle of the night.

“I- I just have had a very… umm… should we say  _ enlightening  _ conversation with John,” Mycroft says finally and Greg silently prays he hasn’t come to him for  _ romantic advice.  _ God, that would definitely be the cherry on top of his dreadful night. 

“About?” Greg prompts, when Mycroft doesn’t elaborate and regrets it a second later due the dark look the other man sends in his direction.

“Apparently, my dear brother set into motion an elaborate scheme in order to get my  _ boyfriend _ .” Greg is certain he has paled considerably and he gulps guiltily. Mycroft’s eyes are fixed on him, making him feel dizzy.

“I see,” he replies, attempting to look innocent and failing miserably.

“Do you?” Mycroft questions, standing up abruptly and starting to pace around the cramped living room. “Apparently, my brother’s plan included you  _ seducing  _ me, so I’d break up with John. A ridiculous and childish plan, of course, even if I must admit I’m moved he cared enough to try to find a  _ replacement  _ for my affections, instead of simply snatching John away.”

Greg’s heart has sunk to his feet. Boy, this night just keeps getting worse and worse, doesn’t it? “I see. So-”

“Do you?” Mycroft repeats, turning to him, looking like a trapped animal and Greg can’t help to gulp once more. “Why would you agree to that, Inspector? Why would you agree to toy with my feelings in such manner?”

Greg blinks. Does he- Does he think he didn’t mean it? That he was simply playing along with Sherlock’s plan for… what? fun? “Mycroft I- I- The thing is…” he looks around the room, searching for something to say, but coming up blank. The truth might be the best policy here, though. “I like you. I have for a very long time and so when Sherlock came here, spinning tales- I didn’t believe him, but that I desperately wanted to and so… I couldn’t resist.”

“What do you mean?”

Greg takes a deep breath. “Your brother said you did like me back and I foolishly thought…” he lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head in disbelief at his own stupidity. “I thought he might be right.”

Without him noticing, Mycroft has come to stand in front of him. Greg looks up as the other man places a hand beneath his chin, so they’re looking at each other in eye. “Do you mean it?” Mycroft asks earnestly and Greg blinks. “Do you really- do you wish to… pursue a romantic relationship with me?”

“Well, yes, but I understand-”

Mycroft doesn’t let him finish his sentence, effectively silencing him by pressing their lips together. Greg has the impression they really need to talk this through, but it’s hard to focus when one is being thoroughly kissed. “Wait,” he forces himself to say when they pull away for air, despite the fact that he’d really like to continue kissing. “What about John?”

“We were never really dating. It was a ruse, to get Sherlock off my back.”

That… that sounds crazy. But considering Sherlock snogged the living lights out of him this morning in an attempt to get his brother jealous, Greg supposes that it has some Holmes logic. It’s still crazy, but-

He’ll worry about that later.

When he’s not otherwise occupied.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?
> 
> I fear the ending feels a little too bland, but maybe that’s just me feeling all weird because this doesn’t have as much angst as I’m used to :P
> 
> As usual, it’s been a joy to work on this and get the chance to share it with you guys! Thank you for reading, leaving kudos and commenting! You guys keep me writing even when I don’t really feel like it ;)
> 
> If you’d like to check out my other works, you can do it on my AO3 profile or here’s my master list in [tumblr](http://ylc1.tumblr.com/post/158446864150/fic-master-list%20) (the summaries are a bit more detailed there). I currently have 2 WIPs that aren’t listed on my master list, though: “[the art of letting go](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10496904/chapters/23157252)” which is a quite angsty post-TSOT, with canon divergence fic and “[baby, don’t call me your friend](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10608072/chapters/23456079)”, which is another attempt of humor, but I don’t think it’s working as well as I hoped :P 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the journey as much as I did and if not, I’m always open to suggestions on how to improve.
> 
> Let me know what you thought?

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my native language, so any mistakes you find, please point them out! Let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading!  
> You can also find me in [tumblr](http://ylc1.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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